


Magic From Your Fingers Tingles Down my Spine

by thosewhitejeans



Category: Arctic Monkeys, The Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: God I am so nervous to post this, Idk it's really cute, Kissing, M/M, based on that picture where Miles has FIRE in his eyes and Alex looks incredibly keen, stage antics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thosewhitejeans/pseuds/thosewhitejeans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That picture where the absolute adoration from the two of them is evident af in their gazes. Also that other picture from the same gig where Alex holds Miles' hand with both of his. </p><p>It was a friend's birthday the other day and she deserves a much better present than this but I tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magic From Your Fingers Tingles Down my Spine

Thanks to the wonderful people (you know who you are) who read this through for me and took the time to tell me what they thought! ;3

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Once their eyes lock there's no way they can ignore one another. It's always been a pull like that and it has them both tightly held, shows no sign of letting go. It's more than magnetic, stronger, broader, more encompassing. It's got the fizz of electricity running through it and the bubbling pressure of being deep underwater. Still, it's got warmth like a glow that lets everything settle and sit, bathed in gentle golden light.

When they're alone it's one thing, eyes lock, thoughts sync up, they move closer, elbows, shoulders, temples touching. Noses, cheeks lips. Here, onstage in front of so many of their fans, in front of friends and cameras and people waiting to write reviews it's something else. Their eyes meet and they both feel it with such an immediacy that Miles can't help noticing Alex's forceful but subtle attempts to control himself. He sees the way Alex's eyes half slip shut like it might help him focus before he realises that's not the case. They open again and Miles had a chance to delve once more into the swirling thoughts on their surface. Seconds later he feels fingers tighten around his wrist and hold there like its the only thing centring them both. It might well be. He can feel frustration tingle through the grip on his wrist and only then does he realises that it's both hands, not just one. It's far more desperate, more clinging than that. Alex keeps his gaze trained on him though and Miles lets his own lose focus on the surroundings as he matches the stare.

The look in Alex eyes is gentler than his hold but there's something blazing within there. He's not just clinging tightly to hold back. A flicker of concentration from Miles' eyes to his lips shows that Alex is conflicted, he's holding back but he's also partly pleading and Miles wants to give in, wants nothing more than to close the distance in one smooth movement and just give in, give in entirely and succumb to what he knows they're both feeling. Miles wants to let himself breathe Alex in and feel the warmth of the man's skin against his own. He wants to talk whisper soft and get a response in kind, or no verbal response at all, just a look, another look filled to bursting with answers that lips and tongues only manage when occupied apart from speech.

The crowd, the strings, Zach, Loren, the guitar guys and the roadies side-stage, their friends watching from the wings, the photographers capturing it all on film, everything drops away in an instant. In Miles' mind you could hear a pin drop, you could probably feel a pin drop, feel the vibrations through the air as sound pushes it's way toward him and shoved aside particles of dead space. In that single look he's dragged away from reality, from everything he's doing and left with palpable longing, painful tension ricocheting through the ever closing space between them.

Alex is warm against his side, breath hot against his face, fingertips of the hands around his wrist burning. In his eyes there's fire that catches hold quickly and courses through them both. It chases itself through their veins and ignites everything in its path, lights something deeper and broader that spreads faster than Miles dares to think about. He feels a smile appear on his face and even though he can't see it he knows it's not enough to show anything, certainly not enough to show Alex anything, and even if it were it would feel false, cheap, wrong. He shouldn't even be smiling. Maybe that's the reality clutching and curling fingers round at the edges of his shields. A part of the usual mask that throws itself up as a sort of defence. Luckily Alex is still looking into his eyes, still lost in the dark glinting irises as they catch the beams from the stage lights above them. Miles knows the man can read more there because Alex's lips twitch, his eyelids flutter like they're about to close but they remain open and Miles lets his breath catch in relief, glad he gets just even a second longer to trace more beauty in the thoughts he makes out there. He feels a mimicking twitch at his wrist and Alex looks almost pained by the restraint he's having to deploy, it resonates in his body language as he shifts a scant quarter of an inch closer and Miles is left breathless. Alex half shivers, at the proximity maybe or perhaps he too is feeling that ever-nagging reality prodding at their moment. Either way he's dragging his eyes away, letting them rake over the rest of Miles' face with a silently verbose intensity that has him weak. Miles can't ignore the desire to know, to ask about it and talk about it and find out all the details hidden in the looks and touches.

Later Miles will corner the man, he can picture it happening the way it's happened before. He'll ask him outright and Alex will shrug it off or maybe he'll mumble and babble until Miles pulls him close and urges without feeling that he ought to more careful. Or he'll skirt coyly around the subject, flirt with the idea of bringing it up, all the while hoping for Alex to bring it up instead. When the man eventually does, he'll be uncertain and apologetic and Miles will frown and trace his jawline with a gentle finger, kiss him softly, tell him it's fine, placate him with some bullshit "they'll think it's fan-service or whatever it is they've started to call it". He'll murmur everything delicately, convincing himself over Alex any day. Later still he'll lie awake as Alex breathes beside him knowing they're both thinking about it all much too hard and Alex mulling it over even more. He'll trace squiggly patterns over Alex's shoulders as his thoughts wander and he'll feel Alex shift when it begins to tickle. They'll both sigh and curl together as if they've buried that hatchet altogether. They'll whisper of other things and talk slowly and muted in attempts to soother one another into sleep, sleep that comes only on weary bodies rather than on minds. Alex will wake before him and lie there faking slumber until he comes to and mutters a greeting, expecting and indeed receiving the usual lengthy dream report for Alex's mind doesn't shut off in sleep. It used to worry Miles, the fact that thoughts still bothered the man even when he was he was supposed to be resting, but Miles knows there's nothing to be done for it and so he'll listen, he'll make appropriate noises of acknowledgement as he sleepily processes the odd reel of information he receives. He'll press his forehead to Alex's and utter assurances that they just dreams, he'll receive a fake sigh of relief and he'll join in the act and smile accordingly.

Worse yet - or perhaps better still - it's a cycle. They'll repeat it all days later when Alex has forgotten his fears once more, faced with the heat of the moment and the blaring lights and the deafening crowds. Lately it's been taking less and less time for those fears to slip Alex's mind, moments occurring at gigs a week apart, then just days, the very next show. Something like this incident might cause a reluctance come the next show but they'll play "Standing Next to Me" and Alex will get close and they'll catch gazes and stir feelings and once again the two of them are hook line and sinker drawn and pulled away together, lost and dizzy in one another's scent, painted into a corner by the aura each cast around encompassing the other. It's just another reaper of their cycle. He's only half convinced, if he's truly honest he knows it not the same, there's something of a shift that's already been proven apparent and Miles can only imagine the expression on his own face currently

The strings start up and Miles blinks. Shattered. Gone. Alex is three steps away and grinning cheekily, hair flopping across his forehead and making him look young, boyish. Miles smiles back properly and doesn't take his eyes off the man when he starts up their next song.

Maybe he's really not withdrawing this time.

The man meets Miles' gaze and the intensity is gone from his eyes but the feeling is still present, they're warm and full of energy and Alex sasses the camera off to their left before staring straight back at Miles and beaming, playing his riff with flair and pouting at the camera over Miles' shoulder. He can't help laughing.

They get close again later, cheeks pressed together and lips almost brushing, just the microphone serving as space between them. Alex doesn't startle, his eyes stay shut and his voice never wavers and as the line ends and his eyes open Miles pushes their foreheads together and speaks soliloquies with his actions. He feels Alex shake his head with that bashful smiler as he ducks and pulls away, still smiling, every movement filled up with a buzzing warmth of joy and happiness. Alex is in his element, lost to the world for half a second and owning it all the next. It's downright beautiful to watch and Miles, well, Miles has the best seat in the house.


End file.
